


Two Wolves, One Soul

by round_robin



Series: Tumblr Prompts [12]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Eskel (The Witcher), Cock Warming, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dom/sub, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Soft Witchers (The Witcher), Sub Eskel (The Witcher), Winter At Kaer Morhen, Witchers Have Fangs, soft dom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:14:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29150289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/round_robin/pseuds/round_robin
Summary: Collection of the Eskel/Geralt prompts from my tumblr. I'm fond of saying Eskel and Geralt share one soul, and I love writing these moments between them.
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Series: Tumblr Prompts [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1739158
Comments: 54
Kudos: 125





	1. Coming Down

**Author's Note:**

> Anon requested sub Eskel, "Eskel allows himself a night where he doesn't have to be the strong one. He lets down his guard to Geralt and Geralt gets to take care of Eskel."
> 
> I love these two together so much. I know I say that about every pairing, but I really, really do, there's something magical about being able to relax into the arms of an old lover, and that is my preferred way to see them. There is background Wolf Pack, but this will just focus on Eskel and Geralt. Enjoy <3

The moment they returned to Kaer Morhen for the winter was a moment of relief—relief from the howling wind that chased them up the mountain, from the cold and hunger of the journey, and it was relief from the world that demanded so much from them and gave so very little in return. Geralt felt it the second he walked through the gates. Lambert needed to be in front of the fire before he let the year's troubles slid off him. Eskel was... different. Vesemir said _difficult_ , but Geralt understood, he just needed a little longer to finally wind down.

When Eskel arrived home, he was interested in what needed doing, throwing himself into repairs and chores before he even set his bags down. “Storm to the west, blowing this way,” he grunted. “No time to waste.” Though he was exhausted, he assisted with every backbreaking task Vesemir needed done. Geralt gave it two days—three at the most—before he started to feel the crush and begged for relief. Because Eskel couldn't calm himself down, he had no off switch, he was dedicated to his brothers and their keep, and would push himself until he knew they were satisfied. So Geralt waited...

The third night after they were all home, Geralt heard shuffling feet outside his door. The storm Eskel saw had just blown in, howling around the walls, blowing a draft through the dining hall with its ever present cracked masonry. Eskel's window was leaky, had been since last spring; with all his repairs on the rest of the keep, he tended to neglect his own room... maybe he did that on purpose.

Geralt let him knock before answering, “Come in,” and flipped the page of his book, some novel Jaskier gave him, it wasn't half bad, a little flowery, but so was Jaskier.

Another beat went by before Eskel opened the door, sliding into the room, head down. Geralt didn't close his book, but smiled up at his brother, he oldest lover, the person he knew better than anyone else on the Continent... He could read the other Witcher's needs like they were written across his face, but Geralt liked to let Eskel ask. If he asked for what he wanted, getting it would be that much sweeter.

“I, uh... there's a draft in my room. Can I stay with you? Should've fixed it, but the walls were more important, and now I'm...” Geralt waited, his eyes never leaving Eskel. Shoulders slumped even more and he ran a shaking hand through his hair. “I'm just so fucking tired. I need—”

That was enough for Geralt and he set his book aside, standing up and opening his arms. He was across the room in a second, Eskel pressed against his chest, guiding his head into the crook of his neck. A full body shudder ran through Eskel and he barely held himself back from collapsing into Geralt's firm arms. “I know what you need.” Geralt spent a moment kissing and petting his hair, scenting him properly. Lambert always demanded the attention as soon as they were both home: long licks up his neck, nuzzling noses, some inconvenient erections as their bodies reacted to the scent of home and pack, he wanted to connection back as soon as possible. Eskel always needed more time, but now he was ready to accept Geralt's love again.

Once he'd sniffed and hugged his fill, Geralt tangled their fingers together and pulled Eskel closer to the fire. “You did so much, helped us prepare for the season. You deserve a rest.”

Eskel didn't resist as scarred fingers slid down his chest, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it up over his head. Kneeling in front of him, Geralt pulled off his boots, setting them aside and urging Eskel to wiggle his toes in the soft fur of the bear skin rug in front of the fire. They'd made love on that rug so many times, there was no way to ever get their smell out of it. He left Eskel's breeches for now, they weren't there... yet.

One hand on the back of Eskel's neck, Geralt guided them down, sitting in the squishy arm chair and placing Eskel between his spread knees. A little more tension bleed out of his shoulders as he rested his head on Geralt's thigh, inhaling deep, scenting him where the heavy, masculine smell was strongest. Eskel could bury his face in Geralt's crotch if he wanted, but he held back, there was still some unwinding to do.

With Eskel comfortably kneeling between his legs (on a pillow he placed there just in case Eskel dropped by...) Geralt went back to his book, reading with one hand softly petting Eskel's hair.

They stayed like that for a while, listening to the crackling fire, the slow slide of paper as Geralt turned each page... Eskel closed his eyes and inhaled, breathing in Geralt's scent and letting himself slowly fall down into that calm place. Geralt never demanded much from him short of communication: “Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you, simple as that,” he always said. He didn't snap at Eskel for slouching, not kneeling perfectly, he let Eskel be, as long as he was quiet and didn't disturb until Geralt had more for him to do. Or until he _wanted_ more.

Time passed differently when Eskel was like this, kneeling, waiting, he didn't know how long he'd been sat at Geralt's feet but his slowly filling cock had needs of its own now. A few days to climb the mountain, then working himself ragged to prepare for winter, he hadn't had a chance to tend to himself in so long. Geralt could smell it on him, definitely, the needs that he ignored in favor of taking care of others. And now Geralt would take care of him, Eskel knew that deep in his bones.

The book closed with a snap and two hands carded through his hair, sliding down his neck, scratching lightly at his scalp until tingling fire shot down his spine, making his cock jerk in his breeches. “Geralt,” he whispered into the leather hiding creamy skin from his lips. “Please...”

“Of course.” Geralt stood up and Eskel followed like he had him on a string. Careful hands opened the laces on his breeches and stripped the rest of his clothes until Eskel stood naked in front of the fire. Geralt bit his lip and moaned softly, running his hands down Eskel's chest... to his stomach... and finally brushing his cock. “So beautiful. You're so good to us, taking care of the keep, making sure we're all safe for the season. Why don't you let me take care of you now?”

The last bit of tension evaporated and Eskel nodded. “Please.”

That same guiding hand wrapped around his waist and drew him over to the bed. “On your knees, head down... good, just like that.” With his head down, ass in the air, Geralt completely clothed behind him, Eskel felt exposed... it sent a glorious shiver down his spine. He and Geralt had seen everything of each other, the beautiful and the disgusting, soft moments and the hard ones. He trusted Geralt with his body, his submission, and his love. Whatever happened tonight, Geralt would take care of him.

Already drifting, Eskel's attention snapped back to the warm room and the bed when two slick fingers pressed against his hole. “Been a long year,” Geralt responded to the tightness he found. “No more than this tonight.” Eskel whined and Geralt's free hand gave him a light slap. “I said I'd take care of you, I'm not going to push you so hard. Tomorrow, you can have my cock.”

Another shudder ran through Eskel and he dropped his head onto the bed. “Thank you.”

There were no more words as Geralt worked him open, his other hand dropping down to cup Eskel's balls before pulling lazily at his cock. He went slow, adding more slick when necessary, but mostly letting Eskel enjoy the sensation of his touch, building him towards a lazy peak. Sometimes, one heavy hand settled on the small of his back then trailed up, stroking over sore muscles. “Rub you down later,” Geralt whispered, “Yeah, that's what you need.”

The touches were so slow, yet so deliberate, Eskel didn't even notice his orgasm approaching until he couldn't stop it. His toes curled and he shouted into the bed linens. Behind him, Geralt smiled and leaned down, biting lightly at the swell of one thick ass cheek. Eskel really had the finest ass—toned and rock hard, with just the correct amount of jiggle—it made Geralt weak. “That's it,” he whispered. “You can let go. Let me hear you.”

Eskel followed the orders, easy though they were. He lifted his head so his moans were no longer muffled in the sheets, thrusting back to get more of the slick fingers pushing inside of him. Geralt's hand around his cock worked until Eskel shook, oversensitive and exhausted. Gently lowering him to the bed, Geralt fetched a wet cloth and brushed Eskel down before stripping his clothes and getting them both into bed. The other Witcher settled into his arms like he was made to be there, mind floating after the shaking orgasm. Geralt's own cock lay hard and wanting in the bend of his hip, but he could wait, Eskel needed his attention first.

The fire was low by the time Eskel's eyes opened. He shifted, burrowing deeper into Geralt's chest and his comforting scent. One hand drifted under the covers and wrapped around his cock, but he didn't stroke, not yet. He didn't have permission. “Can I?”

“Yes.” Geralt kissed Eskel's forehead before letting him go, letting him slide under the sheets and mouth at his cock. “Fuck, your mouth... yeah, get me good and wet, use your tongue.” Eskel followed all the instructions, sucking Geralt exactly the way he liked, swallowing down his spend.

Geralt let him stay there for a while, mouth wrapped around his softening cock, happy little moans inter-spaced between deep breaths. The thought of taking Eskel tomorrow—having that hot, tight ass wrapped around him, moans dripping from scarred, beautiful lips like water from a spring—had Geralt hard again. Eskel went to suck him off again, tongue already flicking across the slit.

“Not tonight.” Geralt gathered him to his chest, pressing their noses together. “You were perfect, letting me take care of you.” A content sigh pushed between Eskel's lips and he collapsed, boneless across Geralt's chest. It didn't take long for Geralt to find sleep as well, thoughts of a winter filled with Eskel placing his trust in his hands leaving a smile on his lips.


	2. Broken Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most of the other Witchers thought Geralt was being dramatic. “Fangs are good for getting the humans in line,” Varin grumbled. “Don't be such a wet blanket about it.” But then, the others were... gone, leaving only Geralt, Eskel, Lambert and Vesemir. So maybe his fangs weren't the worst of his problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from little-red-riding-doublet: "one word: TEEF!" It was probably meant to be more horny than anything, but I had to go ahead and make it soft... I'm like that.
> 
> Rated T (for teeth) (sorry, I couldn't resist)

Extra trials, extra mutations, extra fucking bullshit. That was Geralt's life, and he was used to it. Most of it was fine, the hair got him looks but after a while it wasn't a big deal, and his muscles were already large by human standards, only a little superior to other Witchers, but mostly, it was the fangs that bothered him.

All Witchers had sharp teeth, a little more predator in them than straight up (non-mutated) humans, and they liked their meat rare, tearing at the tough muscle fibers, letting their longer than normal canines intimidate the room just enough to get their fair pay. Geralt like his meat bloody, fangs shredding and ripping as he kept his hood up so his hideous fangs didn't get him run out of town. They sat in his mouth just fine, they weren't too big for comfort, just too big to keep hidden, no matter how softly he spoke, almost mumbling so he didn't have to open his mouth. But people always saw them, it was unavoidable.

Most of the other Witchers thought he was being dramatic. “Fangs are good for getting the humans in line,” Varin grumbled. “Don't be such a wet blanket about it.” But then, the others were... gone, leaving only Geralt, Eskel, Lambert and Vesemir. So maybe his fangs weren't the worst of his problems.

Eskel had always been nice about them, when they were cuddled together as boys, their long teeth shiny and new, Eskel rubbed their noses together. “They look so good. No one's ever gonna mess with you.” Geralt just grumbled, burying his face in Eskel's neck.

They still did that. When the wind rattled his window, waking him from a fitful sleep, he slipped from his bed and walked down the hall to Eskel's room. He didn't knock, not after all these years, and as soon as the door creaked open, Eskel lifted an arm, opening the blankets for Geralt to climb in. He pressed his nose into Eskel's neck and sighed at the gentle fingers carding through his hair.

“First few nights are rough,” Eskel said, voice low. “For an empty castle, it's damn fucking loud.”

“Mmm,” Geralt hummed. While a bed at Kaer Morhen was a sight more comfortable than the hard ground, out on The Path, the sounds of nature were more soothing, the wind blowing gently through the trees, a rushing river not far away, the water tripping over the rocks. Here, the doors creaked, the windows squeaked, the wind howled through gaps in the stone, and Lambert fucking snored loud enough to shake the whole mountain. So Eskel was right, the first few nights were rough.

The beat of Eskel's pulse so close helped him drown the sounds out. Geralt pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around Eskel's thick backside. They already had their winter reunion, and in a few days time, probably end up falling into bed together every night. It didn't make sense for them to have separate rooms, not after they'd been _together_ for so long, but a Witcher had so very little to call his own, Geralt would never ask Eskel to give up a space of his own.

Eskel let him burrow for another minute before tugging Geralt out from under the blankets. A gentle finger under his chin tipped his head up, bringing their eyes together. Eskel didn't need words to ask for what he wanted, Geralt saw it in the almost smile on his lips. He tilted his head up as Eskel leaned down and their lips connected in a soft kiss.

Geralt's tongue found the notch of Eskel's lips just as Eskel's tongue flicked over his fangs. They both shivered, two deformed bastards, each thinking the other one was perfect just the way they were. What a pair they made.

Geralt let Eskel lick over his fangs, always so careful not to cut the soft flesh of his tongue. If there was anything that would send Geralt reeling, it was harming Eskel, even accidentally. But Eskel was careful, licking into Geralt's mouth, tingling fire sparking as their lips brushed together over and over again. Whores didn't like kissing Witchers, and they flat out refused to get near Geralt's mouth, Eskel's were the only lips he'd ever kissed, the only lips he _wanted_ to kiss.

They pulled apart and Geralt managed to press a small peck to the scarred side of Eskel's mouth before he got too far away. Eskel shook his head and adjusted the blankets around them. “Get some sleep.”

Geralt closed his eyes and let his breathing slow, matching the beat of his heart to Eskel's. He wasn't sure if he was dreaming or not, but on the cusp of sleep, a calloused finger brushed against his lip, running over one of his fangs. He might have heard a soft sigh of happiness, but Geralt couldn't tell, he was already asleep.


End file.
